Just a Link and Nothing More

Gourmet magazine got more than they bargained for when they commissioned an article on the Maine Lobster Festival and got Consider the Lobster by David Foster Wallace, who I never knew was awesome until I read the coverage following to his suicide. I love that he seems to veer completely off-topic (and acknowledges this eerily in sync with the reader's suspicion; seriously, it's like he saw my expression change and that is creepy) but evaluates everything available so that his analysis is not only relevant, it's the only way the article could have been written.

Infinite Jest and A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again are both on my book list, have been for about a year. I'm trying not to read anything morbid into the fact that about 20% of the writers on my book list have died before I've gotten around to them, because that would vainly reflect my own mortality, which isn't the point. The point is lobsters, and how I'll never look at one without seeing the DVF peering out from under his green doo-rag, trying to make sense of it all.


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